10 1630C DEC 06
Desert sand swept the battleground. Shell casings adorned the desolate land. Bomb explosions and gunfire echoed miles away, veiling the blue sky. Inside the abandoned building were two teenage boys, Christopher and his best friend Barry, each held down one side. They joined the army at the ages of 14 and 17––– Chris forged his age to join. His motivation? To grant himself an escape from the horror he endured at what he couldn't call home, he decided to join Barry, so he wouldn't go through army life alone.
Barry was born and raised in Inglewood, California and knew all about guns and that lifestyle, even though he didn't partake in it. Still, it wouldn't be much trouble to shoot on sight. Nearing the end of his high school years, he'd been captivated by romantic dreams of heroism. His patriotic fervor made his environment a hand in glove, trigger on finger fit. To him, war was glory despite the gore.
Chris, on the other hand, was born and raised in Harlem, New York. All he was ever exposed to was abuse and alcoholism. He stayed in the house, rarely playing outside with the other kids trapped in the dysfunction that occurred in his household. Soon he discovered his talent in art, which became his escape from the trauma. He was a little shy, but around the right person he broke out like a butterfly. It didn't seem to be in his nature to operate with guns, but it was either the army or staying at his house. He chose the lesser of two evils.
He met Barry at their high school, and they immediately hit it off. Becoming best friends and soon the bond becoming tighter like they could be brothers. Chris being younger, Barry made it his responsibility to watch over him, since he didn't have much protection where he resided. The Bradford's welcomed Chris with open arms and offered him a space in their home knowing about all he was experiencing. With all that went on nobody in Chris' household noticed when he was gone or how long.
Now here they were still inseparable watching each other's backs as it's always been. Iraq was their location, and "Able Rising Force" was the name of their military operation. Their mission included intelligence information they gathered, which led to their spot to kill suspected terrorists, and without second thought.
Seated against the wall, Chris' M2 Browning machine gun rested on his lap, his worn leather Bible in hand debossed with "BE STRONG AND COURAGEOUS. JOSHUA 1:9." When he was on base, he loved reading Proverbs and the book of James––– two of the more practical books in the Bible. Learning about his godly morals, and biblical principles, the meaning of his life, and how he should live it. Thirsting for wisdom, truth, and understanding. While he read the Holy Scriptures without ceasing, had the abundant knowledge of what he read, the application of what he read was where he often struggled.
"The LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."" Chris whispered.
"You believe that?" Barry asked, while admiring his Barrett M82 rifle, polishing it.
"You don't?"
"I do," Barry kneeled in front of the window, peering through the shards of glass. "but war takes up my time."
"We're not always going to be here, Mijo."
Barry regards him with a thoughtful look. "The Lord's will be—— Chris get over here. There's a gang load of them."
Chris crawled near him, and surveyed the outside. Sure enough, several trucks with Iraqis on the lookout with weapons in hand glided along the barren land. He tracked them with his eyes, while his grip tightened on his Bible. "Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions."
